


A Br'D in the Hand

by Blackbird Song (Blackbird_Song)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Challenge Response, Humor, M/M, PWP, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-29
Updated: 2010-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-11 07:39:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackbird_Song/pseuds/Blackbird%20Song
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack is always hard after weevil hunts, especially with Ianto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Br'D in the Hand

**Author's Note:**

> To minimise spoilers, the purpose and prompt for this story are in the End Notes. Many thanks to my husband and [](http://temporal-witch.livejournal.com/profile)[**temporal_witch**](http://temporal-witch.livejournal.com/) for the betas.

Jack is hard. He is always hard after weevil hunts, especially with Ianto, but this is much more urgent than usual. So when Ianto moans in the passenger seat, it is doubly hard to quell the impulse to fuck him into oblivion. "How's the bleeding?"

"Just a scratch."

Jack bites everything he can without taking his hands off the wheel. "I love it when you talk dirty." He tries to keep the husk out of his voice. After all, he is genuinely concerned about Ianto, right? And he is racing to the Hub at top speed – his top speed in this ultra-ultra-upgraded SUV – to dump the weevil in the back and throw Ianto over his shoulder and—

"Jack...."

"Are you all right?" Jack dodges a drunk and a dog in quick succession, worrying about the sounds coming from his left. "That weevil really went for you." _Sexually_, he adds to himself.

"Jack, please...."

And then Jack smells the urgency of Ianto's predicament. He grins and settles in. "Why aren't you touching yourself?"

"I'd rather be touching you."

"Not 'til we get out of this town. But you can't wait that long, can you?" Jack gives his own erection some attention, grateful for having muscular thighs.

"No." Ianto's voice is pure, growled sex.

"Open your flies. Nice and slow."

Ianto's jerky fumble tells Jack two things – that Ianto is anything but his normally faux-controlled self, and that the hand that is now lowering the zip millimetre by millimetre had just been in a trouser pocket. This makes Jack even harder, because stroking Ianto's cock through the thin fabric of a pocket lining is one of his very favourite things to do in this world. Between that and the slow, sensuous click of the descending zip, Jack almost forgets to stop at the red light.

"Touch me," Ianto begs.

Jack nearly breaks at the naked, glorious need. "Not yet." He swallows while Ianto moans, and he can hear the curse under it. "I hear you sliding the zip all the way down. I'm watching your cock get harder at the thought of me, smelling you as you become so aroused it starts to ache."

The light changes and Jack eases away so smoothly that he can hear Ianto's finger sliding against the smooth knit of briefs. "I can hear you. I know where you're going."

Ianto's breath hitches, just a little.

"You're going for that little place, the one I can feel without looking. The one just behind your balls. If I suck that spot just right, press in just enough at the right time, you release a pheromone that hasn't been discovered yet. One that smells so good it makes me want to come every time. I could come just with the scent of you."

"Jack!" It's a beg and a curse.

"And I might."

"Unngh!"

"But you won't."

"Don't think I can stop." Something in Ianto's voice gets through to the part of Jack's brain that says something isn't quite normal.

Jack shuts off that part of his brain. "Yes you can," he says, with absolute conviction. "Pull it out. Slowly."

Ianto's breathing is delightfully unsteady.

"I can hear the slide of your hand. You're gripping your cock. You're so close to coming, you're scared to do as I say. But you're not as close as you think. Take it out, Ianto." Jack is driving so fast that the speed cameras will trip, and Tosh will have to hack in and destroy the evidence. He doesn't care. "Stroke it."

"I'll come."

"Not yet. Stroke it slowly. I want to hear your hand. I can't look yet. I want to hear every centimetre of that gorgeous cock."

There is a hiss of skin on skin with the audible twist of a hand on something cylindrical.

"Yes! God, Ianto, that's so erotic! I'm getting so hard and I can't even touch myself..."

Ianto's breathing quickens. He is stroking harder, and Jack can hear the difference between pull and push.

It'll be just seconds until they're out of the town, and Jack is so hard that he's not quite sure he can wait that long. "You're getting so big! So long.... Can't wait to feel you. I'm so hot for you!"

"Fuck, Jack!"

"Hold on!" Jack careens into a deserted spot next to a farmer's gate and flicks the perception filter on. Before the engine judders to a halt he is out of his seat belt and in Ianto's arms, consuming him in a hungry, demanding kiss.

"Jack...." Ianto pants against his mouth and arches up, utterly at the end of his control.

Jack dives for Ianto's cock, dodging the gearbox just before the lever gouges his ribcage.

It is a testament to Ianto's skill, and a huge surprise to Jack, that he is able to thrust up into Jack's mouth three and a half times before he lets go and comes hard – copiously – down Jack's throat.

"Mmmm...." Jack hums around Ianto as the thrusts continue. It's part of their wind-down, and a lovely thing as Ianto almost always gives up a bit more with another spasm.

Only this time, Ianto cries out the honed edge between pain and pleasure and a long, strong spurt surprises Jack, making him suck ardently and wish it were his turn.

And then there is another, and Ianto loses control of hips and mouth. "Jack, Jack! Oh, God, Jack! Fuck! Ah! Oh! Mhh! Jack!"

"Mmm...." Jack pulls off just as Ianto arches and shoots again, though just a little this time, which Jack can't decide is a relief or a disappointment. He smiles and takes Ianto back into his mouth, laving the tingling head in a way that Ianto has always found soothing.

Ianto flinches. "I'm still hard." He sounds worried.

"Yes, you are!" Jack nuzzles Ianto's cock and looks up into his eyes. "You all right?"

"I think—" Ianto licks his lips and his face changes. "Oh, yeah!"

It's all Jack can do to muster the control to say, "Really?"

Ianto pushes Jack off. "Back seat. Now!" He is out the door and stripping before Jack can blink, tossing bits of his suit by the wayside with such abandon that Jack has to clamp down and think of the dead weevil in the back to calm himself.

*****

The combined signals warning of a problem with the SUV and a security threat of alien nature rip through Tosh's precious silence as she scans the latest book find with her translator. The book slithers through her fingers and slinks down the stairs. "Shit!" She turns to the screen, mumbling, "Good thing it likes dark places and—" Her eyes pop wide open at the video streaming from the back of the SUV. "—Ianto!"

*****

Jack has barely shut the door when Ianto grabs him and pushes him down onto the seat. "Wow, you really are—"

Ianto settles on top of Jack and seizes his mouth hungrily. His cock is already secreting that delicious fluid Jack loves so much, and the slick of it between them makes Jack hard enough to feel dizzy. Ianto reaches behind himself for Jack's cock and pulls on it, positioning himself.

Jack can barely hold Ianto off long enough to say, "Lube—"

"No time."

"Not optional." Jack holds up an open sachet.

*****

Tosh watches in fascination as Ianto bites his lip and Jack strokes his arm. She can't hear them, but she can see Jack's face and the look in his eyes as he gazes at Ianto. Something inside her unlocks, and for a moment she glances down at the translator.

It blinks at her.

"I am not a book!" She turns it off and shoves it into the back of a desk drawer.

And then she looks at the screen and the warmth in her chest spreads its tingly fingers to her groin as she watches Ianto's beautiful hand make Jack's cock glisten. "Oh, lucky, lucky Ianto!" She slides down in her chair.

*****

Ianto impales himself on Jack's cock. He gasps and closes his eyes in the exquisite burn of penetration.

Jack's cock twitches inside, and he struggles to hold himself still while Ianto adjusts. Normally, he relishes these drawn-out seconds when everything goes still and quiet in an ecstasy of sensation. It's a chance to revel in Ianto's warmth and skin – gorgeous skin, Ianto has – and the heat of flesh in flesh. He can glut himself on the sight of dark lashes wanton on translucent skin – he always wants to kiss those and never does – or the moisture of Ianto's sex-sweat, or the weight of Ianto on top of him, or the sound of Ianto's heart and breath, or the changing flavour he gets through nostrils and tongue of Ianto's arousal. But if he's honest for an elusive second, what he likes most about this bit is the perfect excuse it gives him to enjoy the intimacy of it without being caught. And always when Ianto looks at him, into him, in that moment before he nods or orders him to fucking _move_, Jack knows that the game is up, and they're both caught. He always knows. And he comes back, anyway.

Tonight, though, Jack is so painfully hard that he's impatient, and it takes him a longer moment than it should to realise that Ianto is sitting fully on him, squeezing him from inside, drawing him even further in, even though he's already slightly more than balls-deep. He looks up and finds Ianto's ecstatic face, and smiles. "You ready for this?"

Ianto's wordless, drawn-out moan tells Jack everything he needs to know. So does the intense squeeze-pull of Ianto's internal muscles as he lifts slightly, expertly.

Jack gasps and thrusts up hard.

Ianto groans and leans down to capture Jack's mouth in the sloppiest, filthiest kiss Jack could want.

Jack thrusts again, harder, and again, faster.

Ianto is with Jack, rutting against his stomach and fucking himself on Jack's cock as though it wouldn't matter if the SUV's perception filter were off.

It is cramped and close and the windows are fogged up, the angles are – as always in that seat – awkward, and they're going at it so hard that they'll have to check the tyres and the suspension in the morning, but it's exquisite. And if he's honest again, Jack loves the fact that Ianto can't actually sit up on top of him in that space. The hot sweat and breath and skin and lips against his face are every bit as erotic as the sensation of Ianto's hand reaching back to stroke his thigh.

Jack thrusts harder, unable to slow himself down or prolong the moment.

Ianto sticks his fingers against Jack's open mouth, fumbling a kiss at the same time.

Jack draws them in, sucking on them as hard as Ianto's grinding down onto his cock, and they both moan.

Ianto starts to tremble and withdraws his fingers, sitting up just enough to insert them into Jack's arse.

Jack cries out and thrusts, erratic and out of control even though he knew Ianto would do that. He looks at Ianto's engorged lips and naked lust and touches it all as he throws himself as deeply inside Ianto as he can and comes on a cry he doesn't have enough breath to make.

Ianto does cry out, coming a second later, which makes Jack's spasms all the harder. Especially when Ianto comes so hard that it reaches Jack's mouth.

Jack cannot stop thrusting.

Neither can Ianto.

It is when they both have second orgasms, also simultaneously, that the part of Jack's brain that he switched off tells him to wake up and fucking listen. "Ian-Ianto..." It's croaky and breathless and makes him even hornier. "Ohh...."

"Jack...."

"Something's—Ohhh, you feel so good!"

"So do you. And don't you f-ah!-fucking dare stop!"

"Long as you're o-ohhh!kay...."

"We—Ahh! Alien oh! mmhh! thing later...."

"You're shhOhhmigod! sure?"

"I-I-Ah! 'M coming!"

"Ahh! Me too! Ah! Ianto!"

*****

Tosh is splayed in her seat, panting after the orgasm she's just shared with Jack and Ianto and wondering if, like them, she's going to have more of them. And more. And more. And if she's going to have to go there and intervene before—

"Oh, god!"

They've changed position in a flurry of movement and are sitting, or sprawling, still massively erect as they face each other, legs bent and spread to accommodate one another. They snog sloppily and then pull apart. Everything is in very plain view. Ianto is leaning back on his elbows as Jack positions his cock at Ianto's entrance and begins to push in.

But then Jack leans back, rather than forwards, and Tosh can watch his muscles work and glisten as he pushes in at that angle, and stare at Ianto's torso as it arches to accommodate him. She nearly comes again at the sight, but doesn't because she must feast on the sight of Jack's shaft moving in and out of Ianto's body, Ianto's very impressive cock bobbing and twitching just above his gorgeous, lean-muscled thighs, the way they grasp at calves and stroke up inner thighs, the ecstasy on both their faces as they close their eyes and their movement loses coordination.

And then Ianto is coming once more, this time so hard that a gobbet of it hits the hidden onboard camera lens and knocks it out just as Jack throws his head back in climax.

"Shit!" Tosh sends a refresh signal, but it doesn't help when what she really needs is a tiny windscreen wiper that she's only just realised she needs to invent. She sighs and saves the video, and then she goes back and watches from the beginning. "Whatever that alien device is, I want it," she mutters.

*****

They are both still hard. They have both had more orgasms than they can contemplate. Jack has insisted that they both drink as much water as they can. They are clothed only in Jack's coat, which Jack is wearing and holding around a huddling Ianto, who has let it be known that he doesn't want to be totally naked whilst outside the vehicle – perception filter, notwithstanding – even though his penis is massively over-sensitised.

They stare at the dead weevil and the device Jack has pulled from a place neither of them wants to think about.

"What is that thing?" Ianto peers closely at the small, purple blob.

"It's called a Br'D."

"Do all alien birdies turn human males into sex-maniacs?"

"Hey, you weren't complaining back there!"

"Find me a device that makes my dick stop hurting, and I won't be complaining now." Ianto rubs gingerly against Jack's thigh.

Jack smiles and kisses Ianto's still-swollen lips. "It's not a birdie, it's a Br'D. Emphasis on the 'Dee'. And you're right that it only works on males, but it's not just human ones." He looks pointedly at the weevil.

Ianto follows his gaze. "I did _not_ want to see that!"

"Yeah, well, I didn't want to see it pointing at you, either."

"So, you killed it – him – in a fit of jealousy?"

"Could be. Or it could be that male weevils in rut are unstoppable, and it was him or you."

Ianto looks at Jack, searching.

"Or maybe it was a bit of both."

"You're just saying that 'cause you're still hard."

"Yeah, well, so are you."

Ianto sighs. "How long does this last, and will you still respect me in the morning?"

Jack laughs. "After we neutralise it, we'll still be feeling the effects for about another twelve hours. As for the respect, well, that depends."

"On...?"

"On how long you can go before we neutralise it."

Ianto gazes directly into Jack's eyes. "Get me whatever alien cream will soothe my dick, a suite at the St. David's and the paid time off, and sky's the limit."

Jack grins slowly at Ianto and pulls him into a languid, heated kiss. "You are so on!"

*****

Five days later, Tosh catches Jack and Ianto wobbling back into the Hub. There is no concept of personal space between them, and they both sport vacant, soppy looks. She alerts Owen to the fact that the missing are back and might require a full medical.

Two weeks after that, the Br'D has to be wrested from Owen's hand after an embarrassing incident with a barmaid, a football player and an alien orchid.

Six weeks after that, Tosh is finally able to sit in the back seat of the SUV and actually work. She attributes this to seventeen copies of a certain video – including versions in DVD, Blu-ray, VHS, flash drives for each of her computer systems and various implantable chips – that she has hidden in her flat. The eighteenth, a Krelvian waferleaf, she keeps in the lining of her favourite jacket. She pets it. It purrs.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Porn Writing Action Group challenge (brainchild of [info]sanginmychains) Seven Times Jack Shagged Ianto Silly. This story was for Prompt the Sixth: There was this artefact they picked up, and it emitted this signal that made them really horny, and well, it was weeks before Tosh could sit in the back seat of the SUV without getting all hot and bothered, remembering what she'd seen.
> 
> I should probably mention that it is my belief that Jack has sharper senses than we do. We are not sure that he's completely human, and I wouldn't be surprised if he can smell pheromones and hear things that most of us can't. Given the way humans seem to be evolving, I'd actually be very surprised if our senses didn't pick up in about three thousand years. Of course, that assumes our survival as a species for that long.


End file.
